The Galaxy, June 1877: Vol. XXIII.—June, 1877.—No. 6.Various
General
The Galaxy, June 1877: Vol. XXIII.—June, 1877.—No. 6.
Various
American literature -- Periodicals
"Oh, Lilian, what a color you are! Blue-white, ghastly, your face all
drawn, pinched--magnificent! Let me see your hands and nails. Ah,
capital! Capital! Poor little Lilian! But if you must faint, what a
chance for me! I couldn't think how I was to get the right tint for my
dying soldier. I never saw any one dead or wounded, and I am much too
stolid ever to faint myself. Crossing the channel I took my hand-mirror
and studied my face when I was desperately sick--but it was all green
and pathos--no good! But your color's the very thing--only you get pink
so fast! Oh, Lilian, if ever you faint again, have me called the very
instant you feel yourself going off!"
This may be called devotion to one's work? But grand work she's going
to do. She's full of genius, and has only to get over the
niminy-piminy-izing of the South Kensington School, and work abroad a
few years, to have a far more justly grounded fame than Rosa Bonheur's.
Already a few first great drops of her shower are falling. She's a
picture in the Academy, her first, and _on the line_--a picture to
which the hanging committee themselves took off their hats, and gave a
cheer for the artist; and a regular ovation she had on the private view
day--nobility and clergy, fellow artists and journalists, army and
navy--such a day as she says can never come again for her, let the
future have what success in store for her it may.
She has sold the picture for a thousand guineas, and her sketch in the
Black and White Exhibition has appeared in one of the illustrated
papers, the same paper offering her _carte-blanche_ for illustrations.
How I feel like swinging her in triumph before the faces of Mesdames
Malise and her friends!--a simple, frank, good girl, who never in her
life thought of crying out about a career, and a smoothing of her way,
or declared her right to devote herself to art, and to such an
unwomanly branch of it as the drawing of horses and soldiers, but set
herself obscurely at work, and toiled as faithfully as if she hadn't a
spark of genius in her--to win what she has already done, and yet will
do!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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